This was true love. True love wasn’t saying it a million times. True love wasn’t all the candlelit dinners and roses. It wasn’t even me writing her a song. True love was supporting each other. It was fighting each other’s corner no matter how big the opponent.
I lifted my fingers to her cheek and stroked them along her pale skin. Her gaze met mine, and a soft smile appeared.
“You’re a very, very special woman, Maeve Lewis.”
She raised her hand to mine. “And you make me feel that way. You make me feel special every single time I’m around you. And even when I’m not.”
I took her forearms gently in mine and tugged her down to the bed. I wrapped my body around her tiny frame, wanting to melt into her. “It is impossible to get anything done around you. Looking so damn sexy and smart all the time…” I kissed her nose.
She eyed me with suspicion. She was right to. I wanted to rip her clothes off.
“I will not be manipulated, Mr. Jackson. Get to work.”